


J2 Hurt/Comfort Indulgence #8: Overdose

by embroiderama



Series: J2 Hurt Comfort Indulgences [8]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Consent, Drugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-21
Updated: 2010-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen has a bad reaction to a drug, and Jared has a bad reaction to the whole damn thing. Contains discussion of issues of consent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	J2 Hurt/Comfort Indulgence #8: Overdose

**Author's Note:**

> This is the eighth story written for a prompt on my [](http://community.livejournal.com/10_hurt_comfort/profile)[**10_hurt_comfort**](http://community.livejournal.com/10_hurt_comfort/) chart - NOT PART OF A SERIES, just part of a collection. Thank you to [](http://zortified.livejournal.com/profile)[**zortified**](http://zortified.livejournal.com/) for the beta.

Normally, with Jensen, it was just like those pictures from the party with Kristen Bell. Jared would laugh and talk and dance like a moron, and Jensen would stand around looking vaguely pained if he wasn't talking to somebody he was honestly happy to see. Some people said Jensen was an uptight asshole, but Jared knew it wasn't anything like that. Jensen just preferred letting his goofy side out at home, or at parties small enough for him to know and trust everybody there.

Still, there's an exception to every rule, and Jared was witness to the proof of that, Jensen flailing around in a crowd of mostly strangers and slight acquaintances. They didn't usually spend a lot of time playing in the club scene, but they were in LA for the weekend and bored of their usual hang-outs. Jared danced next to him for a while, their bodies bumping into each other to the beat of the music, and if it wasn't exactly dancing _with_ Jensen, well, it felt good anyway.

They had their own kind of rhythm. Jensen was normally the last person to make a move in public, but he'd followed Jared to the bathroom and locked them both in the last stall. Music had throbbed through the walls and into Jared's back as he pushed his hips up against Jensen's hips, as he arched his chest into the touch of Jensen's hands. Jensen's hands had been everywhere, his mouth following behind, and Jared came right into Jensen's mouth in that bathroom stall, his muffled sounds blending into the overwhelming beat of the music.

Jensen hadn't stopped touching him, hadn't let Jared drop to his knees to return the favor. He'd just thrust his body against Jared's, pushed his cock against Jared's hip until his eyes closed, his eyelids twitching, and he came in his pants as Jared held him up, held him close. As they both got their breath back, Jared took Jensen's weight, let the wall take his own. When they cleaned themselves up, buttoned up and walked back out into the crowd, Jared felt high on the unexpected thrill. He looked at Jensen undulating to the music, an extra groove to the twist of his hips that hadn't been there before, and thought he probably felt the same way.

Jared pulled Jensen close enough to yell in his ear that he was going to grab another couple of beers and then moved through the crowd of people moving to the music. Lucky for all of them, the club wasn't exactly about ballroom dancing. As he stood in line at the bar Jared laughed to himself that Jensen was the only unmarried guy he knew who actually did know how to do ballroom dance. He'd said his mother had made him take lessons in middle school, and Jared liked to imagine Jensen, five feet tall and skinny, wearing pleated pants and a shirt buttoned up to his neck. Maybe a string tie.

Still, even if it was ridiculously old-fashioned and even if Jensen didn't remember every nuance, it had been strangely sexy to dance in their living room the few times they'd tried it. Jensen had led Jared through clumsy box steps to the radio playing NPR, and they'd sketched out a lazy waltz to Elliott Smith late one night when they were too tired to fuck, too wired to sleep.

When Jared got back to the dance floor they'd been bouncing around on all night he didn't see Jensen anywhere. The rest of the people around were the same ones he'd been jostling against for hours, but Jensen was gone. Jared craned his neck to look out over the crowd, immensely grateful for his height, and tried to tell himself that Jensen was just off taking a piss, no big deal. But it felt like a big deal. Something was off, something had been off, and Jared needed to find Jensen. Now.

Jared spotted a familiar profile over by the wall, and he pushed through the crowd, newly acquired beers abandoned. Up close, Jensen was sheet white in the weird light of the room, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily.

"Jen!" Jared wrapped a hand around Jensen's bicep, not exactly holding him up and not exactly holding him close. Just holding him because something was off and Jared didn't know what the fuck it was. "You okay?"

"Just so fucking hot, man." Jensen panted, tipping his head back against the concrete wall. "It's like a hundred in here."

"I don't know." Jared frowned, looking up at the huge fans moving the air above them. "It doesn't seem that bad to me."

Jensen laughed, kind of breathless and high-pitched. "And you're usually the one sweatin' like a glass of sweet tea."

"No shit. You feeling okay otherwise?" Jared reached out with his free hand and cupped Jensen cheek; the skin was hot and dry. "Shit, you really are hot."

"Told you." Jensen grunted and slumped forward until his arms were braced on his knees, Jared's hand steadying him as he moved. "Shit, shit."

The worry Jared had been feeling ramped up to alarm and he ducked down to get a better look at Jensen. "What's wrong? You feel sick?"

"Head's poundin' like a bitch." Jensen's words were slurred, and there was no way he'd had enough beer for that. His hands were shaking against his knees. "Feel...uh...shit."

"Jensen!" Jared felt to his knees on the hard floor, putting his face right in front of Jensen's. "Jen!" Jensen lifted his head far enough to look Jared in the eyes. "Jen, did you take anything?" Jensen shook his head, looking utterly confused and spaced out, and Jared shook his shoulder to keep him on topic. "Did anybody give you anything?"

"Um." Jensen let his head drop back down as he panted toward the floor. "A beer?"

"WHO gave you the beer?"

"Um, dunno." Jensen voice sounded vague now, and Jared wanted them out of the club now. An hour ago. "I don't..." Jensen trailed off. "What's going on?"

"We're getting the fuck out of here. Come on." Jared tugged at Jensen's arm to get him to stand up and walk, but as soon as Jensen got himself upright he stumbled a step toward Jared and then back against the wall, breathing heavily. Jensen pressed a hand flat on his chest over his dry, sweat-stained shirt, and the look in his eyes was more scared than Jared ever wanted to see without cameras rolling.

"Something's, um." Jensen mumbled, breathing too fast, his eyes wide.

"I know. I'm getting you to a hospital." Jared wrapped his arm around Jensen's shoulder and hurried him through the crowd. Somebody had given Jensen something, and Jared didn't know what, didn't know who, didn't know how much. He wanted to call an ambulance and the cops, and he wanted to kick the ass of everybody who got in his way, but there was no way the press would give that a positive spin, no way to avoid Jensen's career being shredded.

More than his career, his privacy, and as important as his privacy was to Jensen, having this in the news would tear him up. Luckily, now Jensen was breathing better and walking more under his own power. He was pale but not blue, and there was a good hospital a few blocks away. If they could get out without flashing lights and sirens, he was pretty sure neither of them was a big enough name to prompt bullshit like leaked medical records. And damnit, Jensen hadn't done anything wrong.

Outside in the cool night air, Jensen started shivering and Jared handed the valet a hundred and told him he needed his truck _now_. The kid took off running like he thought Jared was going to chase him down, and he was back almost fast enough to keep Jared from making a scene, screaming in the middle of the parking lot.

Jared loaded Jensen into the passenger seat and pressed a hand to his cheek again, feeling the heat unabated despite the couple of minutes waiting outside. He could feel the racing beat of Jensen's pulse under his fingers, and it sent his own heart rate leaping back toward panic. He ran around to the driver's side and took off out of the parking lot and out onto the street, dodging traffic and swearing at the other cars, swearing at himself.

"We'll be there in a minute, Jen. You're gonna be okay."

"I don't--" Jensen stopped talking again and panted into the quiet between them. "I can't--" Jared heard ticking sounds then and looked over to see Jensen tugging ineffectually at the seatbelt where it crossed in front of his chest.

"Stop it, Jen!" The ER entrance was only a block ahead, but Jared had no choice but to stop at a red light, too much cross-traffic to risk rushing through. Jared looked over at Jensen, and he was still clutching the seatbelt in both hands, his eyes wide and staring back at Jared. "I'm sorry, hey." He reached out and squeezed Jensen's shoulder, felt his whole body trembling with heat and nerves and whatever the fuck was running through his veins. "I love you."

Then the light changed to green, and Jared gunned it through the intersection. He swung through yet another valet parking and led Jensen out of the car, doing a lot more of the work than he had back at the club. The ER was busy but not chaotic, and Jared dragged Jensen up to the admissions desk.

"My, um, my friend, somebody gave him something, and something's really wrong." Jensen looked dead white now in the bright lights, and he was still shaking, his forehead drawn up in pain and his eyes unfocused.

"Uh-huh." The woman behind the counter pulled out a clipboard with some papers on it and handed it over. "What did he take?"

Jared swallowed down the worst of his rage, but he knew being civil was entirely out of his grasp. "I told you, somebody slipped him something! How would I know what it was? He needs help, not--" Jensen stumbled hard into Jared's side, even though Jared was holding him up. "Jen?"

Jensen put a hand on his head and just folded, sliding down against Jared until Jared got his arms around him. Jared went to his knees, holding Jensen against him, and he couldn't say anything else, couldn't do anything but stare at the fine tremors moving through Jensen's body. And then he suddenly wasn't alone; half a dozen doctors or nurses or whatever were on the floor with him, and then they took Jensen away and for the long moment until somebody came to chase him away Jared had to stay on the floor feeling the cold of the linoleum leech into his hands and knees and shins as he tried to breathe and figure out what to do next.

~~~

Jared sat on the molded plastic chair with his elbows on his knees, his head hanging down between his shoulders, and tried to get his own heart rate back to something like normal. He didn't want to wait alone, interminably waiting to see if Jensen was okay or really sick or worse. Or worse. He was no good at waiting, especially when it came to waiting by himself, but he wasn't sure who he could call.

Or rather, who he _should_ call. This was Jensen's business, and even if Jensen hadn't taken anything on purpose it was kind of delicate. Jared stared at his phone and tried to remember who was around LA right now, who wouldn't be out fucked up of their own accord by this time on a Saturday night, who wouldn't run their mouth. He jerked his head up, suddenly nervous that somebody was going to come scold him for using his phone, but then he looked around and saw that half the other people waiting in the lobby had phones in their hands.

When Jared's pocket started vibrating, it seemed bizarre considering he had his phone in hand until he remembered that the nurse had handed him Jensen's phone and wallet. He'd stuffed them down in his pockets as he stumbled from the front desk to the waiting room chairs, and now somebody was calling Jensen. Jared was too slow getting the phone out of his pocket, his fingers unsteady and thick, but when he could finally see the display, when he saw it had been Chris calling, he slapped his thumb on the screen to call him back without any more thinking.

"Hey! Where're you hiding, boy?"

Jared could hear music pounding behind Chris's voice, and he remembered Jensen saying that Chris would be at the party, too, that he'd probably get there late. "It's, um, it's me. It's Jared."

Chris didn't say anything right away, but the music behind him grew quieter, more far away. "What's going on?"

"Jensen got sick. I think, um, I don't know, somebody--" Jared bit his lip, hating himself for sounding so stupid.

"Jared. Where are you right now?" Chris sounded sober and steady, and if he was at the party he was so damn close. And he was Jensen's friend from way back.

"The ER. Saint um--" Jared looked around, wishing he could get his thoughts in order.

"Fuck. Hold tight, I'mma be right there. Hospital about a mile east of the club?"

Jared nodded, even if Chris couldn't see him, and fumbled Jensen's phone back into his pocket, his own phone into the opposite pocket. He had nothing to hold onto but his own worry, so he clutched it tight and tried to breathe and waited.

No medical staff had come out to talk to Jared yet, but suddenly Chris was sitting next to him, shoving a cup of lukewarm coffee into his hands and keeping a hand hooked over his back while he drank it down.

"Better?"

Jared nodded and sat up straighter. "Yeah man, thanks."

"No problem, just tell me what the fuck happened."

"Jensen was having fun, maybe too much fun--I don't know, I should've seen it." Jared shook his head, tried to think of one time he'd seen Jensen happily bumping around in a crowd like that. Failed. "But he was just drinking a couple of beers, and then he was fucking pale and hurting and breathing wrong."

"Shit. He didn't--" Chris stopped and wiped a hand over his mouth. "Breathing wrong how?"

"Fast and weird and like--like it hurt. I got him here, and he seemed a lot more steady on his feet then he just went down. And he wouldn't stop shaking, and that's--" Jared gestured toward the big double doors Jensen had disappeared through. "That's it."

"He was seizing?"

"No, I don't--" Jared stopped and thought about things his brother had talked about from medical school. "Yeah, I guess. Shit."

"Aw, fuck." Chris closed his eyes and ducked his head, his hair falling forward to hide his face for a moment before he looked back up at Jared. "But you got him here, dude. You did the right thing." He looked around Jared to the clipboard sitting on the chair next to him. "Are you supposed to be filling that out?"

Jared picked it up, looked at the blank forms. He'd totally forgotten it as soon as he sat down. "Yeah, guess I am."

"Come on, I'll help. Nobody can read your chicken scratch anyway. You got his wallet?" At Jared's nod, Chris patted his back and took the clipboard out of his hands. "Fish out the insurance card. Maybe by the time we're done with this they'll have some news."

And like it was some task he needed to complete to get from one level of the game to the next, as soon as Jared put the filled-out forms in the admissions clerk's hands a doctor he recognized from earlier came through the doors and headed straight for him.

"Mr. Padalecki?"

Jared nodded, suddenly numb, his head floating up above his body.

"Mr. Ackles indicated that it was okay for us to talk to you. Come on back, and I'll let you know what we know."

The realization that Jensen had said something, _indicated_ something, was amazing fucking news as far as Jared was concerned, and he looked over at Chris, who was walking over to join them. "Jensen's friend Chris is here, too, can he--"

"I'm sorry, privacy rules only let me talk to you at this time." And the doctor really did look sorry, not like some asshole who was just swinging his weight around.

"It's cool." Chris nodded. "I'll be out here."

Jared nodded back his promise that he'd come back with any news he got and turned to follow the doctor through the big swinging doors. The doctor looked over his shoulder, talking as they walked down the hall. "Jared, I'm Dr. Keeling, and I'm handling Mr. Ackles' case. We ran some blood tests, and he came back positive for MDMA, commonly known as ecstasy."

"He did NOT take that shit on purpose."

"Mr. Ackles seemed confused about how it ended up in his system, and honestly it's irrelevant to his care. The level of the drug in his system wasn't very high, but some people are more sensitive to its effects. Mr. Ackles, I believe, is particularly sensitive and should absolutely avoid exposing himself to it in the future."

Jared shook his head. "Somebody _did_ this to him!"

The doctor held up a placating hand. "I understand that. I just mean that Mr. Ackles should be careful. If he'd been exposed to a larger amount of the drug the outcome today could have been...a lot more complicated."

The look on the doctor's face said more than his words, and Jared felt sick. "Okay, okay, so how is he now?"

"He's asleep, which is expected considering the diazepam we gave him."

"Diazepam?"

"Valium, and believe me it was exactly what he needed. He was starting to seize, and his heart rate and blood pressure were both way up. An ecstasy overdose is dangerous and not fun for the patient, but he's comfortable now. We've got an IV in him to get him rehydrated, but he's going to be fine."

Jared took a deep breath and let it out, feeling like he could really breathe for the first time since he saw Jensen leaning against that wall. "When can I take him home?"

"We're going to keep him in a bed here in the ER until morning and then discharge him. I'd say just another six hours to let the IVs finish and make sure he's not having any additional problems. He'll need more sleep when he gets home, and don't let him have anything stronger than Tylenol for a few days."

"Can I see him?"

"Absolutely. But just take a few minutes because he needs to rest. And then I'd suggest you get your friend to drive you home because if you try to sleep on those chairs out there I think you're going to end up in the ortho ward." The doctor smiled gently. "Jensen's going to be feeling pretty rough tomorrow, and you'll be able to help him better if you're not passed out asleep."

The thought of leaving Jensen in this condition hurt like a weight in Jared's chest. "I really think I should stay."

"We're not going to let you stay back here with Jensen, and I'm about 99% sure that there aren't going to be any further complications. Look, give me your cell number, and I'll write it on his chart. We'll call you if anything comes up, but the best thing you can do for him is to go home and come back to get him after 8 a.m."

Jared looked at the doctor then looked at his watch. Two in the morning, and his whole body felt heavy with exhaustion now that the crisis was past. Maybe. "But I can see him first?"

"Come on." The doctor led Jared further down the hall and pulled a curtain aside just far enough to admit the both of them. Jensen lay on the bed, his skin pale as milk, his freckles dark in the harsh light. He was curled loosely on his side, his limbs still, his breathing steady and slow. He had an IV in one arm and a clip on one finger, but otherwise he could have just been passed out in bed after a long week of work.

Jared gently wrapped his hand around Jensen's lax fingers and found that he was able to believe that things would be okay. They'd never let him wait back here inside the curtain with Jensen, and if he tried to spend the night in the waiting room that was just six more hours of giving some asshole a chance to figure out there was something newsworthy going on. Jared couldn't let himself be responsible for that.

He let go of Jensen's hand and stroked a hand over his arm before turning to face the doctor. "If I go home, if something changes, you'll call?"

"I will. I'm on duty until 10 a.m. Now go let your friend take you home."

Jared nodded, and with a lingering look back at Jensen he pushed through the curtain and back into the hall, back into the waiting room. Chris sighed with relief when Jared passed on the news and then surprised Jared by hugging him, slapping his back hard enough to hurt.

"Hey," he said, "let me take you back to my place. I've got a spare room, and I'm like 45 minutes closer than your place, especially the way traffic'll be at eight. I can give you a ride back here in the morning so you can take Jensen home in your truck."

It made a lot of sense, but Jared shook his head. "I don't want to impose, and I'm sure you don't want to get up that early."

"Look, son. You love Jensen, and I care about Jensen a hell of a lot. Taking care of you is the best I can do to take care of him. So just mind your elders." Chris smirked and slapped Jared's arm.

Jared snorted out a short laugh, and it felt good. "Yes, sir, Mr. Kane, sir."

~~~

When they got back to Chris's place, Jared actually thought he'd be able to sleep. His eyelids kept trying to close on him, his eyes stinging, and when Chris pushed him into the spare room he took off his shoes and then dropped down to sit on the side of the bed. The room was full of mis-matched furniture, a couple stacks of boxes pushed up against one wall, but the bed was a queen and not too squishy. Maybe he really would be able to sleep. Sighing, he stood up and went to use the bathroom and then stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, turned out the light and slipped under the covers. The sheets were smooth and cool, the pillow comfortable under his head, and Jared slipped off to sleep before he could think too much.

When he woke, the room was still dim. Jared looked at his watch and frowned--not even three hours had passed, but the edge was off Jared's exhaustion and there was no way he was getting back to sleep. He lay there in the dark, looking at the shapes of the furniture and boxes in the unfamiliar room, and tried to convince himself that Jensen was going to be fine. Jensen was going to be fine and their hurried fumbling in the club's men's room wasn't going to be the last time they touched each other. It wasn't--

Jared scrambled to sit up in bed, his chest suddenly tight as things fell together in his head. Jensen had been drugged. And they'd had sex. Jensen had been drugged WHEN they had sex, and that wasn't right. It had been hot but weird, doing it in public like that, the kind of thing Jensen never wanted to do. Jensen _never_ wanted to do that, and he'd been drugged so he still didn't really want it, didn't really choose it. Jared swallowed against a sick taste in the back of his throat. Jared had fucked Jensen's mouth and fifteen minutes later Jensen was so sick he could have died, and there was no getting around it, no pretending it hadn't happened.

It was wrong, the whole thing was wrong, and when Jensen woke up and remembered it all--Jared could see Jensen's eyes, imagine Jensen hating him, being afraid of him. Jared's eyes stung from more than exhaustion, and he had to get up, couldn't sit there in Jensen's friends bed when he figured Chris would kick his ass if he knew. More than anything, he wanted to run, get the air in his face and the ground disappearing under his feet, but he couldn't run on the street in the shoes he wore to the club, not without tearing himself up. Still, he had to move, so Jared pulled on his pants and walked down to Chris's kitchen as quietly as he could. He got a glass of water and poked around Chris's dark house while he drank it.

An open door revealed a treadmill and a weight bench. Jared looked at the treadmill, but he knew it would be loud as hell, too loud to use in the middle of the night. But the weights--he could close the door, keep it quiet, clean up after himself. He didn't think Chris would mind. He loaded up the bar and got himself under it for chest presses. As he grabbed hold of the bar, pushing the weights away from him, he thought about Jensen--drugged, confused, hurting, the taste of Jared's come probably still in his mouth. He wanted to pitch the weights across the room, wanted to scream, but he just lifted and lifted and waited for morning.

~~~

When Jensen woke up, everything around him was white and chrome, and he closed his eyes because the light made his head hurt. He could hear people talking outside his sphere of white. Voices, and beeps and the sound of wheels rolling over a hard floor. The last thing he remembered was being at the club, and now he was in a hospital, and that was bad. Bad. He pushed at his memory, thought maybe he remembered getting in the car outside the club, and _fuck_. If they were in an accident and if Jared wasn't there then it had to mean that Jared was hurt worse. Or worse that that.

Jensen pushed himself up and opened his eyes again, squinting against the light. Something dislodged from his hand and fell to the floor with a click of plastic on tile and then he heard running feet and a worn-looking guy in scrubs and a white lab coat pushed through the curtain. "Mr. Ackles, how are you feeling?"

"Fine. I need to get out of here and go--" Jensen looked around, hoping for some kind of clue. "Go wherever Jared is. The guy I came in with. Do you know if he's, if he's okay?" Jensen slid his legs over the side of the bed and started to stand, but the doctor stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Mr. Ackles, we can take your IV out now, but I'd really prefer you didn't rip it out. I've done enough stitches for one shift."

Jensen heard _stitches_ and thought about Jared being on a bed like this, cuts on his face and arms from the car windows, blood all over the place. He felt his heart beat pounding in his ears and felt the doctor guiding him back against the bed, touching something cold to his chest. "Is he okay?" Jensen pushed the words out on a breath, hoping the doctor would understand.

"Mr. Padalecki?"

Jensen nodded, swallowing hard.

The doctor looked at his watch. "He should be be here to take you home in about an hour."

Jensen didn't know if he felt more relieved or confused, but he just shook his head. "He wasn't hurt?"

"Hurt?" The doctor looked at the chart in his hand and frowned. "I'm sorry Mr. Ackles, I should have started from the beginning. My name is Dr. Keeling, and I've been treating you since Mr. Padalecki brought you in last night. I'm taking it you don't remember what happened?"

"We weren't in an accident?"

"No, nothing like that. You were brought in with elevated blood pressure and heart rate and suffering from dehydration, so with all of that you were feeling quite anxious and unwell in general. Your blood tests revealed a moderate level of Methylenedioxymethamphetamine, commonly known as ecstacy."

Jensen shook his head. He didn't remember feeling that way, and none of it made any sense. At all. "All I had was two beers."

"Mr. Padalecki told me that be believed somebody slipped the drug into your drink."

"Somebody tried to--" Jensen swallowed, trying to think of everybody he'd seen at the club before his memories got confusing.

"From the amount of the drug you were given, it's unlikely that this person was actually trying to harm you. The level in your blood wasn't very high, you just seem to be particularly sensitive to its effects."

Jensen sighed, leaning back against the pillows and looking down at the IV in his hand. "Yeah, I kind of knew that, actually."

"How long ago did you last use the drug on purpose?"

"It was just once, shit, almost ten years ago now. I took one pill and later on felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest, completely freaked out and puked on my friend. It sucked, learned my lesson."

"Okay. Sometimes sensitivities like this can increase with exposure, so I recommend you take precautions to avoid ingesting in the future."

"No shit," Jensen whispered.

The doctor picked up the chart at the end of Jensen's bed and peered at it for a moment. "For now, your vitals look good, and you're hydrated. I'm going to have somebody come take your IV out in a moment and then we'll have your discharge papers. You should go home and rest, call us if you have any recurrence of symptoms, but I suspect you'll be fine."

"And Jared, you're sure that nothing happened to him, that he was okay?"

"He was worried about you and wanted to stay, but we can't have family members waiting back here. I sent him home with your other friend."

"Other friend?" Jensen really hoped that Jared had really gone home and wasn't just sleeping in his truck out in the parking lot.

"About my height, a little stockier, long brown hair?"

"Okay." Jensen nodded. "Okay, that's Chris."

"Good." The doctor smiled briefly, and Jensen figured the guy really didn't give a shit who Chris was. "Okay, we'll get moving on getting you out of here, but you might as well close your eyes and rest for now."

Jensen nodded and the doctor walked back through the curtain, leaving Jensen alone. He figured there was no way he was going to sleep anymore, and he wished he had his phone to keep him occupied. Still, his head had started to pound again now that the doctor was gone, so he went ahead and closed his eyes. He was in the middle of thinking about how the hour waiting for Jared was going to feel like forever when he drifted off to sleep.

~~~

"I thought you said he was awake!"

Jensen heard Jared yelling at somebody, but he just kept his eyes closed. The convertible sofa in his trailer wasn't very comfortable, but as tired as he was he wanted to get in a longer nap before it was his turn to film again.

"He _was_ awake, and his vitals are just fine. You can go wake him yourself if you like. I'll bring the papers in a minute."

Jensen didn't remember any of this scene from the last script he saw, and he really, truly hated big changes at the last minute. He heard the rattling sound of a curtain opening and then felt a hand, Jared's hand, on his knee.

"Jensen? Jen, can you wake up?"

Jensen groaned and opened his eyes, and before his eyes were all the way opened he remembered where he was, that he was far away from his cramped trailer in Vancouver. "'m awake." Jensen slowly sat up and made himself smile even though his head was still fuzzy

"God," Jared said, and then he ducked in close and wrapped his arms around Jensen. The weird angle made Jared feel even bigger than he usually did, a little overwhelming, but he was whispering, _oh God Jensen, oh God,_ in Jensen's ear with such a small voice that Jensen had to wrap his arms around Jared and hold on until the doctor came though the curtain again. Jared pulled away then, and he looked bad, his forehead drawn up into ridges, but Jensen flashed on what he'd imagined before--Jared bleeding, unconscious. Tired, worried Jared was a hell of a lot better.

Jensen signed the discharge papers, his hand trembling just enough to make his signature look worse than usual. After that they left, walking side-by-side through the lobby of the emergency room. Outside, the morning felt very bright with an edge of chill, and the passage of time since the night before still seemed strange. The walk out to the parking lot felt ridiculously long, Jensen's legs starting to shake by the time they got out to Jared's truck. He wasn't paying attention to much beyond Jared's hand on his back and the need to keep upright. When he noticed somebody coming up on his other side, he startled, stumbling a half-step into Jared, before he realized it was Chris, that Chris's truck was parked right next to Jared's.

"Hey, man." Jensen sighed. "Sorry I was spaced out."

"C'mere, asshole." Chris reached out and drew him into a hug with only a couple of light pats on his back instead of the usual beating.

Jensen ran a hand over his face after Chris let him go. "Were you--were you there last night?"

"Not when you got sick, but I called looking for you and came over to hang with Jared for a while. Took him back to my place."

Jensen closed his eyes, imagining Jared alone in the waiting room, and then remembered that the doctor had mentioned Chris being there. He really wished he could hold a thought in his head for any length of time. "Thanks man, for taking care of Jared."

Chris looked past Jensen at Jared. "Long as he takes care of you it's all good."

"That's not gonna be a problem," Jared replied, his voice rumbling through Jensen's body enough to make him realize he was actually leaning hard against Jared's side. "Speaking of which, you ready to go?"

Jensen nodded up at Jared, nodded again at Chris, and let himself be led around to the passenger side of Jared's truck. He didn't need a boost, but Jared gave him one anyway, and then he sat and watched through the windows as Jared and Chris shook hands, Chris smacking a hand on Jared's shoulder before turning to get into his own pickup. Jared got in behind the wheel and started up his truck, turning the radio to country, not too loud. Jensen put on his seat belt when Jared reminded him, and he closed his eyes to avoid the glare of sun on so much glass and chrome. He fell asleep before they even got on the highway.

~~~

Home was good. His own bed was good. A bowl of Frosted Flakes with cold milk was good. The cereal was Jared's, but Jensen really wasn't interested in the athletic chewing that would be involved in eating a bowl of his Grape-Nuts. His stomach felt kind of iffy, so Jared went out and bought him ginger ale, the brand from Whole Foods that came in glass bottles like beer and had real ginger in it.

It was nice, if Jensen ignored the whole deal with his muscles feeling weak and sore, his head feeling fuzzy and his stomach quivering uncertainly. Nice, in the sense that he wasn't in the hospital and Jared wasn't hurt and it was only a couple of days until he could have real coffee again. But there was something weird about Jared, something wrong about the way he was looking at Jensen--and not looking at him. Jensen was going to get it out of him. Just, after he had another nap.

The morning was long gone, afternoon turning into evening, and Jensen didn't feel like he'd spent any time with Jared, at least not while he was awake. Jared was in and out of the bedroom--bringing things in, taking things away, checking to see if the room was too hot or too cold. He'd sit down and barely let his ass touch the bed and then get up, on to some new errand. Jensen wished the dogs weren't up in Vancouver; they could always mellow Jared out. Finally, on his way back from peeing out some more of the fluids the doctor told him to keep drinking, Jensen cornered Jared against the wall of the hallway. Jared's eyes went wide, and Jensen stepped back, confused, his heart beating fast in a way that felt uncomfortably familiar.

"Will you _talk_ to me?" Jensen asked, keeping his voice pitched low.

"You should rest." Jared's whole face was tense, and Jensen just wanted to run his hands over the planes and curves of Jared's face, brush the tension away.

"Will you come and sit and talk? Otherwise I'm going to follow you around this apartment until I pass out."

"Probably wouldn't take long," Jared murmured.

"I'm not feeling that bad anymore. Definitely not tired enough to sleep with you freaking me out." He bumped the back of his hand against Jared's, and Jared turned his hand, wrapped their fingers together. "Okay?"

They walked back to the bedroom loosely holding hands, even though it was awkward, both of them bumping their shoulders against the walls of the narrow hallway. That proof of connection made warmth flow through Jensen, and damn it all he _was_ feeling tired again. They both sat on the bed cross-legged, their knees touching like a couple of kids getting ready to play a board game.

"Can you tell me what's going on in your head?"

Jared looked away and then back at Jensen. "What do you remember about last night? Everything you remember from the time we got to the club."

Jensen really didn't like the way Jared's question sounded, like Jensen had done something, something far more inappropriate than almost keeling over from a drug he didn't know he was taking. "Well," he started, "it's all kind of a jumble. I mean, I remember getting there, getting the first drinks, saying hi to a few people, you know." Jensen shrugged, wishing he knew what Jared was fishing for. "I was dancing, which seems kind of weird in retrospect. I felt pretty good, and I remember watching you, wanting to touch you. Like, hungry for touching you. My hands on you."

"What do you remember after that?" Jared's voice was low.

"Like I said, Jay, it's a jumble. I remember being hot and wanting to get out, and then I was outside with you. Then I remember lights and a flash of my head hurting, and that's it."

"That's it?" Jared looked at him for confirmation then dropped his head to look at his lap. "Fuck, Jen."

"What did I do?" Jensen squeezed his hands tight around his thighs until it hurt. "I can't _remember_, you gotta tell me what I did wrong."

Jared jerked his head up fast. "You? You were drugged against your will! You could have fucking died! You didn't do anything wrong!"

"Then why are you so mad at me?!" Jensen shouted back, and he sat staring at Jared while Jared stared at him, both of their words seeming to reverberate in the small bedroom.

"We had sex," Jared whispered. "We--I let you suck me. You weren't in your right mind, and I can't figure out how I didn't know." Jared slammed a fist down on his knee. "So, so I got off and you didn't even know what you were doing." Jared hit his knee again. "I took advantage, and I can't--" Jared looked away, his eyes wet and wide, his hand clenched tight in a fist ready to come down again.

Jensen grabbed hold of Jared's fist and held it on top of his own knee. He tried to remember anything about having sex with Jared that night, but it was lost, lost in the jumble and the panic. "Did you force me?" Jensen asked, knowing the answer. When Jared kept his mouth shut, Jensen tried again. "Was it my idea?"

"Yeah," Jared admitted. "At least I thought it was. You followed me to the bathroom, got me up against the wall in a stall." He drew in and released a shuddery breath. "I could have pushed you off. Should've."

"Did I hurt you? I mean, I know I was out of it."

"No, you didn't hurt me," Jared answered, looking like Jensen was completely missing the point. "You sucked me off and then rubbed yourself off against my hip."

"That's--" Jensen shook his head, and Jared's expression fell. "No, it's amazing. I've always wanted to do that, kind of fantasized about it, but in reality I always think about the what-ifs, the getting caught, germs, whatever. I guess I was fucked up enough I didn't care."

"You were fucked up alright, and I didn't pay enough attention." Jared's face went as tight as Jensen's stomach felt. "It's like I…like I--"

Jared bounced his right knee, twitching it fast enough that the bed was shaking, Jensen was shaking, feeling sick inside for more than one reason.

"Like I raped you," Jared finally said, his voice small and tight and terrible. "I realized it last night when I was trying to sleep, and I don't know. Don't know what I can do. What I should do."

"No. No." Jensen did touch Jared's face then, smoothing his thumb over Jared's cheek. "I'm your boyfriend, and I love you, and I was horny, and I came to _you_. And God forbid that I should be having fun, you know. If that's supposed to be a sign of me being on drugs then I'm way more of an asshole than I thought."

"Not an asshole," Jared insisted.

Jensen squeezed his hand tight on Jared's face for a second. "You didn't pick up some random, stumbling stranger. _You_ didn't put the shit in my drink, and I wish I knew who did. I wish I could turn their face into hamburger and break their ribs, but you? I want you to stay in this room with me and rest and sleep because you look about as bad as I do."

Jared's shoulders slumped and Jensen put his other hand on Jared's face as well, cupping the bones of Jared's jaw in his palms, stroking the lines of his cheekbones with his thumbs. Jared closed his eyes and Jensen leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, lingering until Jared kissed him back. When Jared sat back and opened his eyes, he looked calmer, like the thoughts that had been twisting around inside him all day were starting to untie, to slip away.

"Will you turn out the lights and stuff?"

Jared nodded, standing up with a small, uncertain smile. "You need your Tylenol?"

Jensen shook his head. "Took it in the bathroom."

Jared closed the bedroom door most of the way and turned off the lights. They both stripped down. Jared hesitated, catching Jensen's gaze before pulling down his boxers, but finally they were both in bed, skin against skin. Jensen laid down on his back with a pillow under his shoulders and he pulled Jared over to curl against his side, Jared's head on Jensen's chest, Jensen's hand brushing through his hair. Still, Jared wasn't relaxed, tension clear in the well-defined muscles of his arms and shoulders.

"Why don't you tell me," Jensen murmured. "Tell me what you remember?"

Jared was quiet for a moment, breathing against Jensen's skin, and then he swallowed audibly before starting. "You were gorgeous, dancing and shining all sweaty under the lights. And then you were gone, and when I found you--you were hurting. You were _in pain_ and panicking and you were breathing like there was something really wrong with you. And I got you to the hospital, but it didn't seem like it was fast enough. And you passed out then, and you were shu--" Jared's breath caught on a dry sob, and Jensen rubbed a hand over his back. "Shaking," Jared forced out and then he was shaking himself, crying into Jensen's chest like Jensen had never seen before. Never imagined.

He held Jared. Held onto him. He fell asleep, and he was exactly where he wanted to be.


End file.
